


A Different Path

by golden_redhead



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, M/M, Panic Attacks, Poison, Spoilers, chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_redhead/pseuds/golden_redhead
Summary: “Which one of us you think is gonna die first?” Kokichi asks with a wry smile playing on his lips, a shadow of his mischievous self reflected in his eyes, now unfocused and bright with fever.A shudder runs down the length of Kaito’s spine.-Ending up stuck in the cockpit of the exisal with Kaito wasn't a part of Kokichi's original plan. But maybe that's a good thing.
Relationships: Momota Kaito & Oma Kokichi, Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 285
Collections: Quality Fics





	A Different Path

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love to my wonderful beta, asteroidtaker (Tumblr)!

In the cramped space of the exisal  cockpit , every sound is too loud. The throbbing pain in his chest keeps Kaito awake even as Kokichi seemingly drifts in and out of consciousness, his head a heavy weight against Kaito’s shoulder. He can feel the heat radiating from Kokichi’s body, consumed by poison-induced fever, the hushed murmur of his breath tickling against his skin. He’s getting worse with every minute, Kaito can tell by the way he shivers against his side, violent tremors wracking through his small frame, lips pressed together tightly and shoulders hunched. He knows just how slim the chances of them winning are, knows how crazy this little plan of theirs is. If Kokichi’s right, then the chances of luring the mastermind out of hiding are next to non-existent and all they can do is pray that whoever orchestrated this killing game makes a mistake. 

“Wanna make a bet?” comes the quiet, slurred voice from his side and Kaito looks in that direction, startled. He didn’t expect Kokichi to be awake but he is, the dark smudges scattered underneath his doe-like eyes and hollow cheeks causing the knot at the pit of Kaito’s stomach to tighten. In a span of no longer than five hours, Kokichi’s state deteriorated so badly that there was no telling how much more time he had before his body finally succumbed to the poison coursing through his veins. 

“Which one of us you think is gonna die first?” Kokichi asks with a wry smile playing on his lips, a shadow of his mischievous self reflected in his eyes, now unfocused and bright with fever.

A shudder runs down the length of Kaito’s spine.

“Don’t say that,” he reprimands him harshly, anger seeping into his voice. He wants to say more, tell Kokichi to stop being ridiculous, but as soon as he opens his mouth, a cough cuts him off and more blood spills over his chin. The pain explodes in his chest and he cries out of pain, clutching at his shirt and curling on his side as he fights to catch his breath. It’s three minutes later when he finally sits up, the pain still flaring in his chest and hopeless tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He can feel Kokichi’s eyes on him, observing him in quiet, careful contemplation. 

“Or maybe I was wrong,” is what Kokichi says when their eyes meet. “Maybe neither of us are gonna die.”

Kaito wipes his face with the back of hand, smearing more blood over his chin. “Neither of us is dying. And I’m really not in the mood for your mind games,” he grunts, closing his eyes and cursing when he feels the pain pulsing in his temples. 

Kokichi hums, shuffling closer. “Were you ever?”

Kaito lets out a bark of a laugh at that. “No, not really.”

Silence falls between them, tense but not uncomfortable. Vaguely, Kaito realizes that he should at least try to get some sleep, if only to chase away the migraine building slowly in his temples to at least be of some use tomorrow when the time will come. He has no idea what will happen once others find the little crime scene he and Kokichi had staged, he has no idea what to expect once the trial starts. There will be no coming back, they put everything they had in the hands of fate and all they can do now is hope against hope that this flimsy, desperate plan will work. He feels the exhaustion settling over his shoulders, the empty wish for it all to be finally over so he can rest. There will be no time to rest for him, though, he knows that well. Sooner than later, his illness will triumph and all he can hope for is that it’ll grant him a few more hours, just enough to see whether this flimsy plan of theirs will work out or if it was a mistake since the beginning. 

Through half-lidded eyes, he steals a look at Kokichi. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, trying to forcefully pour the antidote down his throat, condemning them both for good. He still doesn’t understand why he would do that, doesn’t understand what could have possibly possessed him to not take it all for himself when he knew Kaito was a dead man walking anyway. He’s never understood Kokichi and he was sure as hell that he never would, but even by Kokichi standards it just… it didn’t make sense. 

The thought is somewhat scary, this realization that maybe he had it all wrong and the world isn’t as black and white as he thought. It’s not something Kaito is good with, he likes to see things as clear and simple, he likes to have this order in his life that he could rely on. But if Kokichi is not the villain of this story, then… Who is he? 

When Kokichi’s like that, curled up at his side and seemingly defenseless, trapped in the steel-like clutches of pain even in his half-sleep, Kaito can hardly see him as the villain he thought him to be. The more he thinks about it, the more it feels like he’s been fooled, unable to see what was right before his eyes this whole time.

The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

If there’s one thing Kaito’s always prided himself in it’s his ability to read people, to see things not even they know about themselves or are willing to uncover. He knows Maki is more than her talent, that there’s vulnerability there that she’s been denied her entire life. He knows what Shuichi needs most is encouragement and gentle validation, recognition for his skills and faith in his judgements.

But then… How could he be so wrong about Kokichi?

_ It’s because he’s a liar _ , whispers a faceless voice into his ear, but he dismisses it with a frown. 

When he thinks about it —  _ really thinks about it  _ — he starts to realize that maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe he wanted to see Kokichi as a liar and a monster, maybe he wanted to buy into these illusions, because that way he could forget about the real enemy. Fighting with Kokichi was easier than trying to save them from the cruel reality of the game they were forced to play, easier than admitting he couldn’t be the hero he desperately wished to be. He wasn’t Shuichi, with his frighteningly sharp observation skills, he wasn’t Kaede who knew how to take things into her own hands, even if it meant her own inevitable demise. Even now, he’s simply following Kokichi’s plan. Like a sidekick. 

Before he can dwell more into it, Kokichi startles awake at his side with a choked up gasp, eyes shooting open, wild and bright with fever, and starts to claw at his face, short nails leaving long red marks on his too-pale face as he keeps thrashing against Kaito in some desperate haze. 

“H-Hey, stop! Ouma, stop it!” Kaito swallows the initial surprise and reaches out to catch his thin, bony wrists, pulling them away from his face before he breaks the skin. Kokichi lets out a stranded yelp and, in his disoriented panic, lands a kick to his stomach, pushing Kaito away. Kaito’s back slams against one of the walls of the cockpit and he wheezes, struggling to catch his breath. It wasn't a strong kick by any means, just as strong as one would expect from someone of Kokichi’s posture, but in his weakened state it’s enough to leave Kaito doubling in pain, teeth gritted together to keep himself from screaming. 

He throws himself at Kokichi with a roar, pinning him beneath him and locking his wrist in a forceful grip, not letting go even as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his hold, a quick stab of worry piercing through Kaito’s chest when he catches a glimpse of his arm, blood oozing from his wound once more. 

It takes another minute of struggle before Kokichi goes completely still in his grip, as if suddenly all energy left his body, leaving him weak and quiet. For a second Kaito worries that something bad happened, worries that he fell victim to the poison for good, leaving him trapped in this cockpit all alone, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest is still there and when he angles his head to take a better look he can see his eyes, dull but alive. 

They stay like this, Kaito’s harsh breaths the only sound in the otherwise deathly quiet cabin, his fingers digging into Kokichi’s wrists until it suddenly occurs to him that he’s going to leave marks and lets go as if burned, muttering a hushed apologies.

“What the hell was that?!” he demands harshly when a few more minutes pass, only to regret it almost instantly when Kokichi’s finally eyes meet his, carefully devoid of emotion. He looks at him unblinkingly for a moment and then, as if remembering some kind of pre-written script he’s decided to follow, his face morphs slowly into that practised, mocking smile of his that Kaito’s seen directed at him too many times to count. 

It’s uncanny.

“I changed my mind,” Kokichi rasps out before he clears his throat and starts again. “I changed my mind. I bet Momota-chan is gonna die first,” he states easily, as if he’s talking about the weather, the tone of his voice light and unwavering, and his usual cocky smile almost enough to draw Kaito’s attention away from the slight tremble of his hands. Almost. 

He takes a deep breath, familiar prickles of irritation blooming under his skin. 

“I already told you. Neither of us is going to die.”

“Optimistic, aren’t we?” Kokichi cocks his head to the side, slumping further into his chair when Kaito finally pulls away, still eyeing him warily, as if he could start thrashing around if he looks away, even if for just a second. He tucks his hands under the galaxy jacket Kaito threw over his frail figure earlier, when they first entered the cockpit.

“Momota-chan should really stop lying to himself,” he adds after a while, voice softer and eyes slipping shut. “It ain’t cute.”

Kaito huffs angrily, hand curling into a fist and nails pressing crescent-shaped cuts into his palm. “I’m not. You are just too goddamn pessimistic.”

Kokichi lets out a humorless laugh. “Sure, Momota-chan. If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Kaito’s eyebrows wrinkle in a frown. He knows Kokichi’s deflecting, stalling so Kaito won’t ask him about earlier, but he can’t help himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It wouldn’t hurt that tiny brain of yours to be a little more pessimistic, Momota-chan. Although I prefer to think I’m a realist. It’s just the reality that happens to be a bit pessimistic at the moment.”

He pulls the jacket higher, over his mouth, and turns his head a little so his eyes are now obscured by the curls of his hair, hidden in the shadows, Kaito now unable to see his expression. The thought of Kokichi shielding himself from the world, from  _ him _ , somehow makes him angry. His arm shoots to grab Kokichi’s shoulder and before he has a chance to think about what he’s doing he’s already forcefully turning him around to face him, a look of shock and pain that flashes through Kokichi’s face only fueling him further. 

“Stop it,” he says, his fingers digging into the skin of Kokichi’s shoulders. “Whatever it is you are doing, just—just fucking stop it!”

There’s a hint of wetness in Kokichi’s eyes, Kaito’s jacket falling off his shoulders and revealing his torso, sharp contours of ribs poking against the paper-thin skin and the hollow dip of his collarbones making Kaito feel uneasy. The sickly pink blood runs down the length of his right arm where the arrow used to stick out from, its color a striking contrast with his pale skin that in the dim, fluorescent light of the exisal cockpit looks almost ashen. 

“Why?” he asks simply. 

He doesn’t ask what he’s supposed to stop. Or how is he supposed to do that. 

The usual challenge burning there is long gone, Kokichi blinking slowly against the haze of the fever, his stare boring into Kaito’s skull questioningly, tired and wary. 

Kaito swallows thickly. 

“Because…” he hesitates, suddenly losing his resolve and faltering under Kokichi’s watchful gaze. “Because it’s not helpful. Because you’re a fucking liar, Ouma, and you can deflect all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that we are stuck here and we are going to do whatever it takes to take Monokuma down. So… So stop acting like we’re dead already. We’re not. We’re gonna get out of this and save everyone.”

“It’s a killing game, Momota-chan,” Kokichi reminds him coldly. “It’s either us or the others. And we’re both running on borrowed time.” 

Kaito’s eyebrows furrow in an angry curve.

“Shit, Ouma, we agreed to go with this plan.  _ You  _ agreed to go with this plan.”

Kokichi gives a curt nod. “Yeah, I did,” he confirms in clipped voice. 

“Why then?” he asks exasperatedly, still not understanding. “Why would you agree to a plan that you don’t think is going to work? Fuck, I don’t get it, Ouma!”

Something in Kokichi’s facade falters, a rare sign of vulnerability flashing across his face until he schools it into something angrier, something more controlled.

“Because I’m a coward!” he shoots back, his voice echoing in the small space between, chest heaving and breathing loud. “You happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear, Momota-chan?”

Kaito stares at him incredulously.

“You were just willing to die under that hydraulic press no more than two hours ago if I hadn’t stopped you… That’s not how being a coward looks like!”

Kokichi laughs, a dry little chuckle. “No offense, Momota-chan, but you’re the last person I’d ask if I wanted to know how cowardice does or doesn’t look like.”

There’s so much Kaito wants to say to that, but the decisive jerk of Kokichi’s head as he shakes it shuts him up before he could utter a single word. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m gonna get some shut-eye before it’s time for our big show. I suggest you do the same.”

Kokichi turns his back to him, wrapping Kaito’s jacket tightly around his small figure, clearly indicating that as far as he’s concerned, this conversation is over. 

Kaito swallows the instinct to continue arguing, continue until he exposes every single lie he’s heard come from Kokichi’s mouth, until he doesn’t feel so goddamn lost and strips Kokichi of all of his pretences and masks, all for a flimsy excuse of control. He knows it won’t change anything except maybe make him feel a little bit better, the thought almost shameful. He reluctantly decides against it, the aching of his muscles reminding him of just how exhausted he truly is and how the hours to come will prove to be even harder. The remains of the poison still circulate through his system, burning him from the inside. He can’t even imagine what Kokichi must be going through, a pang of embarrassment and pity echoing through his chest as he tries to find a more comfortable position in his corner of the cockpit. He had managed to force Kokichi to drink what little remained of the antidote, but it wasn’t enough, it couldn’t possibly be enough, all he did was slow down the process. But if Kokichi is right, if there’s someone out there watching them, observing… then maybe there’s still hope to save him, maybe if they play their cards right, if they don’t run out of time too fast, if he can still prove himself and be the hero he wants to be… Maybe there is still hope. 

Maybe not all is lost. 

He settles next to Kokichi and tries to quiet the thoughts swirling in his head, slowly drifting to sleep, giving in to exhaustion. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some kind of different version of the canon events for quite some time. I originally intended this fic to be a oneshot, but I'm seriously considering writing more and turning it into a mini series, going more into detail about how the plan changed and why it changed in the first place. I don't want to promise anything for now, because I don't have as much time to write as I used to have, but if you liked it I might consider that :) 
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoyed this little thing! As always, comments and kudos are really appreciated, I cherish every single one of them 🖤


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